Sky Held High
by marapozsa
Summary: They don't remember the heartstone. On near-permanent hiatus.
1. Fake

**Chapter One - Fake**

a k a n t **h a e** - h i _m e_

**Authoress' Note & Disclaimer:** First story for Storm Hawks. More likely than not to be discontinued, as the only inspiration for this story so far came from the three or four hours of Storm Hawks I watched a while ago, also known as a marathon. Love the art. Love the villain (whom I mistook for a male because according to internet tests, I am one). Love the setting. _Hate_ the plot. Don't own any of the above barring my - as of right now - nameless original character. She'll get a name eventually, but for now it's just pronouns.

As a last note, please take notice that I wrote about five chapters of this before beginning to post, so author's notes may be out of date or have void meanings.

-

The minute Finn began to sigh, Aerrow knew they were all doomed. Finn's blonde spikes flopped over to one side as he leaned back in his chair, looking over at Piper next to him. Piper was completely unaware of his gaze, merely looking over her many maps again...and again. Normally she would have been in her own room working but she wanted the company, like all the others did except for Stork, who was working on Finn's skimmer in the hangar. Terra Yern was - to say the least - _quiet_. Really quiet. Not even Finn, the tactician knew, was lively enough to do more than sit at his designated spot, staring at the sky.

Piper accompanied Finn in another sigh.

"Hey, hey. What's wrong with us?" Aerrow asked. He leaned back in his own chair; running a hand through his hair, he continued, "I know it's been a while since we had contact with Starling, but I'm sure she'll show up. She's a sky knight; she doesn't break her promises."

For a moment, even Piper looked pessimistic; in fact, they all shot the sky knight dirty looks, even Radarr. Aerrow looked around nervously. The air seemed thick and heavy, which was what always happened when the Storm Hawks were bored beyond comparison. Radarr skittered away from Aerrow to where Junko sat across the table.

Determined as always, he said, "No, **really**."

Piper looked up from her map of Terra Movren, rolling it up and slamming it on the metal tabletop for emphasis.

"Uh-huh," she quipped quickly, "and that's the same thing you said _two hours ago_."

The map rolled off the table.

Aerrow ran a hand through his hair. (It was getting late...he had to admit that much, looking at the golden-pink hue of the setting sun.)

And Finn sat up straight, leaning forward as he whispered, "Hey, man. Don't push it. Seriously, I don't think she's gonna show. Piper's just off her rocker!"

"I heard that!"

Finn shrugged. He pushed his chair back with a creak. Somehow his feet ended up propped on the table, which made Piper glance at Finn with disgust and move closer to Junko and Radarr.

"_Men_," she muttered dispassionately.

"See what I mean?"

His male companion buried his face in his hands, groaning. He had only three seconds to contemplate before a familiar sound met his ears: the whir of a skimmer engine. When he looked up, green eyes scanning the horizon through the clear glass, all he could catch was the whoop of a woman (or a really high-pitched man) and a flash of purple passing by the _Condor_.

Aerrow smirked.

"Told you."

-

Below the _Condor_, stationed to hover above Terra Yern like some sort of asteroid, a skimmer flittered to and fro as the pilot surveyed the carrier. Honestly, she didn't think it was much. As testimony to her thoughts - although she doubted that the ship was psychic - a small plate of metal fell off one of the engines.

"Whoa!"

The skimmer swerved starboard to avoid the falling metal. Under her breath she mumbled, "I'll have to ask them to fix that."

And with a flick of several switches, the skimmer's pilot pulled the joystick up, maneuvering her feet so that her craft rose steadily into the sky; her landing was smooth when she entered the main hangar of the _Condor_. She didn't have to wait long for the sounds of whirring as her skimmer exchanged parts and folded its one set of purple wings. Wheels emerged.

The skimmer was now a motorcycle.

And Aerrow was, as always, waiting. His arms were folded, leaning against the doorframe of the door_way_ that led to the main hangar.

This time, though, he wasn't as confident and eager as he had always been in his dealings with Starling - he admired her, frankly, for being such a great sky knight, although Piper showed it more than he did. Girls were hard to come by nowadays in squadrons, although squadrons were required to have at least one female member. (It was only fair.) Few squadrons were led by women; and even fewer female sky knights were ever recognized for their abilities. It was only natural he admire someone as great as Starling was; only natural that Aerrow jump for the chance to even be near her - although he wasn't that much of a rabid fan, only someone who wanted to pick up a few moves from a pro.

Except this wasn't Starling.

He watched the stranger warily, not even sure if the rider was a girl or a boy. He caught hints of curves, but not much else, because said rider had seen fit to land in the only patch of shadow in the hangar. That was enough to annoy Aerrow, that this person who was obviously trying to impersonate Starling (no doubt a Dark Ace cronie) wasn't even trying to do it right. He scowled, but he didn't do much else. After all, he was standing at the only entrance from the hangar into the rest of the Condor. The imposter couldn't possibly get past him.

And the 'imposter,' as Aerrow had seen fit to dub her, wasn't even trying. In fact, the rider seemed to be dawdling, more intent on deciding whether or not to stay than removing his...her...its helmet and trying to sneak into the _Condor_. Actually, the pilot wasn't sneaky at all. He was making as much noise as any of them would, though no one came running (probably assuming Aerrow had it under control).

Correction: she. The pilot raised a hand, two fingers curved like hooks, and pulled the helmet off by its rim with a deft and swift tug. _Most riders don't wear helmets_, Aerrow vaguely remembered from what Piper had once said, _because their skimmers are usually programmed to protect their riders from the elements, no matter who they are._ This girl was probably the exception, although she didn't really count as a girl - or, at least, not a feminine one.

Her hair, Aerrow could see, was cut short like a boy's. Bangs fell out in the front and in the back helmet hair reigned supreme. She had little to no curves, but her gangliness was transformed into grace by the form-fitting uniform she wore. A rather familiar emblem flashed on her torso, some sort of badge or emblazoned patch: the cyclonian emblem. The bad lighting meant Aerrow could hardly see anything, but by now he'd had enough of waiting to see exactly what this mystery person was doing...which wasn't much, he'd admit.

Forget Starling: this was (obviously) a cyclonian intent on sabotage.

He unfolded his arms - they hung down by his sides like stiff wooden boards - and began a slow walk towards the nameless girl.

"Hey!"

She jumped, twisting to face him. At the sight of Aerrow - who surmised it was probably because she hadn't expected to be caught within five minutes of stepping on board the Condor - she splayed herself against the body of her skimmer, holding up her hands as if she was supposed to be afraid of him. (And as far as he could tell, she was.) She made no move to reach towards the stave at her belt, which jutted out at an angle and looked to be of the easily retractable sort that Piper wielded. In turn, Aerrow took little notice of the weapon, which seemed to be the only one the 'Starling imposter' had on her person.

Before Aerrow could make another move towards her, she blurted out, "Starling sent me!"

His face twisted into confusion, evident doubt in his emerald eyes as he studied her blue ones.


	2. Tricky

**Chapter Two - Tricky**

a k a n t **h a e** - h i _m e_

**Authoress' Note & Disclaimer:** I'm amazed I can actually get past chapter one on a fic. It's actually rather difficult for me, believe it or not. I need to watch more Storm Hawks, which I do not own except for my still nameless original character. Thank you for your concern, and for reading, but I intend to introduce her name soon. I totally do not need suggestions.

I'm a bad liar.

-

She looked back at him; it seemed as though by virtue of the seconds ticking by, each one gave the Condor's visitor a little more courage, until finally she was standing proudly in front of him. Aerrow considered that an improvement to her wild look before, although he didn't understand a word of her insistent babble - only the phrase, "not a cyclonian," and the name, "Starling." With each word - as if this stranger girl in cyclonian garb expected him to believe her - Aerrow became more and more certain it was a ruse to gain his trust and sabotage the (self-proclaimed) only sky knight squadron capable of bringing Cyclonis down.

When she took a breath to begin again, he held up a hand. "Okay," Aerrow said, "so lemme get this straight: first, you're not a cyclonian. Second, Starling is in trouble. Third, you used to be a member of the Interceptors."

She didn't answer; merely looked at him expectantly, as if to ask (which she did), "Well?"

"**Well**," he responded, "I just think that the rest of us need to hear about this. They'll be in the cockpit."

He pivoted in his place, grabbing the stranger's wrist with a certain reluctance, and made his way into the corridor. Thereupon, the girl tugged her arm out of his grasp, cradling it with her other hand as she said - quite clearly - "Usually, the main cockpit is the other way in a carrier vehicle."

Aerrow glanced at her nervously, forcing himself to grin. "We're taking a shortcut."

She didn't have time to ask, "you're sure?" before he pulled her into the opposite hallway, past a flight of metal stairs, and into the spare room they kept for all of their junk - Stork's more difficult tools, extra weapons, some of Piper's maps, though all had been cleared recently (Piper's cleaning purge had swept the entire airship except for Finn's room) in favor of the stacked jumble of cots. This was the room that was generally a hospital ward on ships...and from the look on her face, Aerrow's counterpart knew it, but she wasn't quick enough to turn and leave before Aerrow darted out the door, pulled out a key, and looked the door.

"Hey!" echoed the girl. Aerrow was a little more than worried when he heard the sounds on the other side of the door that suggested his visitor was trying to get out: the pitter-patter of footsteps and loud thump of a shoulder colliding with the metal frame; but now wasn't the time to get guilty. Before he could contemplate letting her out (no doubt to wreak havoc on the rest of Stork's prized ship), Aerrow began a shuffling walk along the corridor that led to the real cockpit.

-

"So you **locked her into the spare room**? Idiot!"

Piper turned around, beginning to pace again as the gears of her brain worked overtime to puzzle out if Aerrow could really have been that stupid.

Stork cleared his throat, eyes dilating rapidly as his gaze flickered from Finn, to Junko, to Aerrow. They all focused on him, even Piper stopping her pacing (Finn could've sworn she was wearing a hole through the floor) to listen to whatever pessimistic comment Stork had in store for them...mostly because at times, those comments were the spawn of some awesome plan Stork inadvertently seeded.

"You don't happen to mean the storeroom where," - here he abandoned his train of thought to scratch at some nonexistent rash near the nape of his neck, before he skittered towards Aerrow and leaned in closely for emphasis - "I keep all of the spare parts and dangerously dangerous tools that most of you wouldn't dare go near for fear of losing body parts?"

Aerrow glared at Stork menacingly, Finn snickering at the sight.

"Well," he defended himself slowly, thoughtfully, "it seemed like a good idea at the time."

Stork let out the breath he hadn't known he was holding, moving back to crouch next to Radarr, who supported Stork with a chitter and nod of his head. His voice was breathy and ominous when he next spoke: "Now would be a nice time," - and again with the itch, spawning stifled snorts of laughter from Finn - "to start praying that she doesn't know how to _use_ any of those dangerously dangerous tools. Because the last time someone went near my stuff - "

"Dude," interrupted Finn.

Stork turned his head to look at the sharpshooter, who was oh-so-obviously not taking anything they had said seriously.

"Why can't you keep your stuff in your room like the rest of us?"

Aerrow and Piper joined in with a rousing cry of, "shut up, Finn! This is serious!"

-

"Fuck."

There was no one there to wince at her bad language as the girl whose entrance in the _Condor_ had been so rudely interrupted by Aerrow banged her fist against the door once last time. She had to admit: even if she did think the _Condor_ was falling apart on the outside (depicrit and old-looking), the inside was sturdier than a lot of the airships she'd seen in her day...which hadn't been that long ago. She was young, not even Aerrow's age, which merited that she should be given credit for even managing to make a dent in the door.

Which she hadn't. As far as she could tell, it was the same as it had been a whole hour ago. She regretted leaving her other weather crystals on her skimmer: the one she brushed her hand against now, lodged firmly in the compartment on her metal stave. It emitted a faint blue light, but the rain weather crystal wasn't doing much. Her hair, obviously dyed its current shade of platinum blonde (the russet roots shone through clearly, though they weren't meant as highlights), was plastered against her forehead.

Metal, unfortunately, didn't rust easily, especially when it was built to maintain against rust for what seemed like a very long time.

_I'm just taking a break_, she told herself, but her body told her otherwise when she tugged a cot and matching blanket off the stockpile in the corner. She collapsed in the makeshift bed with gusto.

Mere moments later, the _Condor_'s unwelcome guest gave up the attempt to get up and try again. All her efforts had earned her were a bruised shoulder, a barely (if at all) dented door, and some hostility from people who were supposed to have trusted her like they trusted Starling; not to mention this conclusion: _humans, including the girl herself, were a tricky lot._

-

Around the same time, Piper sighed. "Well, it's not like we have any other choice," she said primly.

"Well, why not?"

"Piper, she's a **cyclo** - "

"Is not."

Piper pivoted where she stood, leaning forward to glare at Finn menacingly for his lack of sense at Aerrow's unfinished comment towards Junko's inquiry. "And why don't you think so?"

"Because." He paused. "Cyclonian girls are ugly."

Aerrow sighed. "Okay, look. First, she's not Dove. Hands off, Finn."

The sharpshooter blinked in confusion.

"Second," Aerrow continued, "she's a **cyclon** - "

Piper twitched. "Aerrow?"

"Hmm?"

"Please. Shut up."

Aerrow was silent, although it was a brooding silence that came from being so rudely spoken too.

Piper smiled. "Thank you." She leaned forward again, her hands resting on the table's end as she surveyed the motley crew in front of her. "Now, first: like Aerrow said, she's not Dove. Hands off."

A shaky breath.

"Second, we don't know who she's working for or if she's on her own. All we know is that she, according - _again_ - to Aerrow, claims to be on our side...or at least friends with Starling. I say we put off the interrogation for tomorrow when we aren't all brain-dead and twitchy, maybe until after lunch."

Stork looked ready to protest at that with a comment that it was merely in his nature, but before he could Aerrow began to talk again.

"I'm all for it," he replied evenly. Piper's solid, diplomatic, there-is-no-way-in-hell-I'm-letting-you-convince-me-into-murdering-that-girl-at-one-in-the-effin'-morning expression melted into relief.

"_But_," - and then Piper groaned - "I still say we put a guard at her door."

Finn nodded in agreement. The earlier statement about Dove hadn't jarred him at all. He sat up straighter, then said, "I call first shift."

"Second."

"Third."

"..."

Radarr was asleep.

"Fourth."

Aerrow looked around at all the resolute faces, all the faces staring back at him.

He sighed.

"Fifth."

"And sixth," added Piper, "because if we put Radarr on a shift alone you can be certain your fantastic cyclonian cronie will be piloting the ship in the morning."

"Actually, no. That's my job," Stork replied. He emphasized his statement with a jerking, twitchy motion.

And suddenly, Aerrow had this odd sinking feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with his lack of dinner. His only protest was, "Why do I get a double-shift? Heck, why does Radarr get a shift?"

(Finn shrugged. "It was your idea, dude.")


	3. Secretive

**Chapter Three - Secretive**

a k a n t **h a e** - h i _m e_

**Authoress' Note & Disclaimer:** I had it all planned up to this chapter. We'll just see where it goes from here. (And no, I don't own anything except for my original character: the one who has a name that is revealed in this chapter. If I said it now, it'd be a spoiler.) Meanwhile, some of the stuff in this chapter may seem awkward. Bear with me. I didn't even stick to my chosen plot.

-

The sky knight sighed. His chin jutted out in the air, challenged only by the rising and falling of his chest as he lay on a makeshift bed in front of the door to the storeroom. So far, nothing. As far as Aerrow could tell (Radarr had left mere minutes ago, carried off by an equally as groggy Junko to the room Aerrow shared with his furry little co-pilot), the girl wasn't even in there. Well, she was: she was just so quiet, it actually tempted Aerrow to go in and see for himself if she hadn't just disappeared in a whiff of smoke. Even Piper snored, he knew that much, though it was only the light breathy snore that children usually had. It made him remember not only the time Finn had desiccated all of their rooms with his homemade fireworks, forcing them to sleep in the cockpit for the week that it took Stork to rebuild it all, but also of Piper herself: not to mention what she'd said to him when he'd relieved her of his post exactly an hour and sixteen minutes prior to the moment.

It scared him that he could remember the exact time, more than what Piper had said: "she doesn't look evil."

He snorted, turning on his side and pulling his pillow closer to his head.

_Famous last words, Piper. Famous last words._

-

His eyes felt like they were glued shut. He yawned, rolling over onto his stomach, then realized he'd dozed off. In a flurry of sudden panic, fearing he'd slept through his entire shift and that something had gone wrong, Aerrow leaped up from his 'bed' and bumped into the door. Doing so earned him a lump on his head and a sudden awakening - of the physical type, though, and not the spiritual. He no longer felt the need to go to the kitchen and stuff his face although he had still missed dinner. He no longer cared that his pillow had somehow gone missing and his mouth tasted suspisciously of swan down.

But with his newfound alert attitude came a lack of common sense: on more than just a whim, Aerrow decided to confirm if his 'prisoner' had escaped or not.

The key found its way into the lock, turning right and then left as Aerrow began to regain more of his bearings. He opened the door quietly; because even though he didn't lack weapons, even the best of fighters could still be taken by surprise by someone stealthy enough to beat them.

Aerrow wasn't the best of fighters, but he didn't have to be: the girl he claimed was a cyclonian wasn't hatching an evil plan in the dead of the night (well, morning, as the light of dawn flittered in through one window's portly shades and onto the floor), merely asleep and snoring like a lot of people did. It was light, breathy, and - as Finn would put it - _girly_, but it was a snore. Aerrow didn't know what he'd expected, but it seemed as though he was constantly incorrect nowadays.

He folded his arms, looking down stonily at the figure. The sky knight suppressed a smile, maybe even a hint of laughter, because he just couldn't help but laugh at the childish way the cyclonian girl slept.

She stirred.

He backed away, hand reaching back for a blade hilt.

There came a small bout of laughter, light and breathy just like the girl's snores, and then she sat up straight. Her arms contorted themselves as she stretched, several audible cracks echoing up and down her spine. An uncomfortable silence followed, in which Aerrow suffered as he wondered if checking up on the girl had been such a good idea.

She snorted.

"Don't you think it's a little on the stupid side," she murmured, "to lock me in your storage closet and then climb into my bed at night? Have you no tact?"

Aerrow turned a vivid hue of red, mere shades lighter than his hair color. "That wasn't what I was trying to do," he said coolly, sure that this was just a ploy to gain his trust and then sabotage away.

She didn't answer.

"And besides, it's not night anymore. The sun's coming up."

She yawned.

"Name's Mav."

"Aerrow," he blurted out before he could get a hold of himself.

Her left eyebrow began to travel upward. "You must be used to being open with your prisoners. That was a pretty fast reply."

Aerrow scowled, almost immediately plummeting into a bad mood. "Well, usually cyclonian strangers don't bother to land in the Condor's main hangar. They find some better way in, like through the air vents."

He paused. "A smarter way," he added, meaning to insult her intelligence.

Silence, again, ensued.

"_If_," she replied slowly, her voice turning into a growl at Aerrow's persistent accusations, "I were a Talon, I'd be about as smart as you could ever hope to be and would currently be attempting to pin you to the ground and slash your skinny neck open."

He shrugged.

"I didn't know you could do that with a staff."

"You can't. Talons aren't good with hand-to-hand combat, but as you pointed out, they'd be smart enough to use a sword or a gun or something instead of a stave. And anyway, like I said, I'm not a cyclonian."

With all the airs of a school professor, Mav added, "Cyclonian girls are all ugly bitches."

"Well, then, who are you?" inquired Aerrow, choosing to ignore her lacking sense of humor.

"Hey, hey. Didn't you say we'd leave the interrogations until after we found the rest of our common sense?" cajoled a newcomer.

Piper leaned against the doorframe, fingering a sliver of green crystal in her hands. Crystal dust of a different, lighter hue dusted her uniform. It glowed, even in the light of a new morning.

Mav yawned, taking her time with a reply.

-

That wasn't much of a reply, Aerrow thought as he closed the door behind him.

_"If you really want to know, you'll let me have my freedom. Not all captive birds sing."_

The words echoed as he walked towards the cockpit, Piper still fingering her crystal by his side.


	4. Temperamental

**Chapter Four - Temperamental**

a k a n t **h a e** - h i _m e_

**Authoress' Note & Disclaimer:** Nope. Still don't own. And I'm not sure what a Merb is either; not to mention my portrayment of anyone but Finn, Mav, and Piper probably sucks. Thank you for whatever reviews I've gotten so far, whether they be flames (which I delight in responding to), criticism, or compliments. I apologize if I haven't got the time to respond to each of them singularly.

-

Mav shook her head.

"God, that was a stupid thing to say," she remarked, before turning over on her side. She was too sleepy to care what would happen to her if Aerrow and his posse were too unwieldy to let her stay and explain the situation.

-

Piper turned to face Aerrow, trailing the shard of crystal along the metal wall haphazardly.

"Like I said, I don't think she's evil."

Aerrow shrugged. "Yeah, yeah. But don't I remember you saying the same thing about Lark?"

He glanced at Piper bemusedly.

"She's different. Either she's really good at acting - "

"I'll vouch for that one," interjected Aerrow.

Piper shot him a look.

"...**Or** she's telling the truth."

"And since when did you start believing whatever a cyclonian told you?"

"Well, I don't think she's a cyclonian! With the Dark Ace, you could tell from the start he wasn't one of the good guys. This girl, whatever you said her name was - "

"Mav," Aerrow interrupted.

"Mav, then, if you were with her long enough to get an idea of who she is...well, I can't tell," Piper confessed.

Aerrow nodded. "I don't think it'll go so well if we let Finn and Junko decide, though. Junko's too easily swayed into doing what Finn says. And Finn...Finn'll let her off the hook for being pretty."

Piper grinned. "You think she's pretty, huh?"

"Well, if she weren't a _cyclonian_..."

"Then pretend she's not."

Aerrow raised an eyebrow. "No."

"Uh-huh. Well, let's see what you think of her after Stork's done looking at her ride."

"Dismantling her ride, you mean."

Piper rolled her eyes, adjusting her pace so that she was a little ahead of Aerrow when they entered the hangar. Her own Heliscooter sat on one side, sheen visible where Stork had mended the scratches. Finn's craft and Junko's were essentially the same in components so it always took Stork a little less time to fix their skimmers. Even now, they looked good as new. In the middle of all their stuff, especially the parts Stork had dragged out from his room, Mav's vehicle of choice looked rather shabby.

"Maybe if she's a good pilot you'll think better of her," Piper remarked.

Stork seemed to think so too: not only that the vehicle was shabby, but also that the pilot had to be good to pilot _that_ piece of rubbish. His facial expression said it all. Aerrow, walking forward and ignoring Piper when she whacked Finn on the head for trying to ride her Heliscooter within permission, placed his hand on Stork's shoulder.

The mechanic and carrier pilot squealed, turning around jerkily to face Aerrow. "Don't do that."

Aerrow put his hands up, not sure if Stork was talking to him or not because the Merb's eyes were distorted by the magnifying lens strapped to his head. His black hair stuck out in tufts of disarray.

"Right. I'll remember that," he replied. "What've you got so far?"

Stork turned back to the skimmer in front of him. "Not much. It's not in good shape. It has the same dark charm Cyclonia had, but it's obviously not the thing she's used to. It'll break soon, by the way, so you should step back."

Aerrow shuffled backwards, growing ever-so-wary of the skimmer in front of him.

The Merb paused, using a wrench as a makeshift backscratcher while he scuttled around to the other side of the vehicle. "Looks like she had some crystals stored in here. A change of clothes, too. The helmet wasn't stolen either, but from the fingerprints on the handlebars I'd say she's not used to using this sort of skimmer - probably one like yours or Piper's."

A compartment popped open on Aerrow's side of the skimmer and he jumped.

"Whoops. Sorry. Forgot: she's also got more crystals on this side; maybe Piper can take a look at them."

He glanced up. "_Later_," Stork added, "after I'm finished looking at this Switchblade model. It's obviously a Talon vehicle...but not hers."

Piper sauntered up to pat the vehicle gently. "See? Not a cyclonian."

(Here she mumbled something about paranoid morons.)

"I think you should take a look at the clothes, though. They've got a sky knight logo on them - I mean, it looks a little like the cyclonian mark but it's not the same. The squadron's not one I recognize."

She winced, holding up the outfit she was talking about, as the skimmer in front of them collapsed suddenly. Crystals rolled everywhere, not to mention general debris and aircraft parts.

Junko's head popped up from behind his skimmer. "What was that?"

-

Mav awoke to bright sunlight in her eyes, the sort of bright and flashy light few enjoyed dealing with in the morning. With a yawn and a stretching of her limbs, she swung her legs over the side of the cot (which had fallen apart at least twice during the night, not counting the time it had nearly broken in two directly after Aerrow had left) and proceeded to run a hand through her hair. It was mussy.

As always, it took a few moments for her vision to clear so that she could think straight.

"Boo."

Mav screamed.

Finn winced.

Junko went running for help - namely, Aerrow, Piper and Radarr.

The girl pulled her blanket over her head, tugging out her staff and letting it extract itself. Even before it was its full length, Mav scowled and swung it directly downward. Her knuckles were white and she was shaking from shock; meanwhile, Finn was staring cross-eyed at the sharp, pointy thing wavering one or two inches away from his nose. He was nervous when he said, "Whoa, whoa. Okay, well, first, I'd appreciate it if you stopped pointing that at the dude."

He lifted a hand and gently pushed the stave away from his precious face. Mav relaxed slightly, staring at him with a critical expression...she was obviously not impressed.

"Second, I'd also appreciate it if you stopped staring at me like a piece of meat. I'm cool and all, but I'm not - "

He was interrupted rudely when Mav jabbed him in the arm with her weapon. "Who're you, again?"

"That thing's dangerous, you know," came a voice from the doorway. Both Finn and Mav turned their gaze towards said doorway, Finn twisting his grimace into a more amiable expression.

"It's cool, man. She and I have got a connection."

Mav prodded him again, although this time she missed because Finn knew it was coming. Piper snorted, whereas Radarr only scrunched up his face in disgust, clinging to Aerrow as he secured his perch on the sky knight's shoulder confidently.

"Are all your crew members lechs?" demanded Mav, retracting her staff and standing. She wasn't as diminuitive compared to Finn when she was standing, but she was only so tall. Standing on the cot - its metal frame almost oozed the phrase, "I'm dying!" - made all the difference, but soon after Mav had jumped down and advanced onward in order to poke Aerrow in the stomach too, Finn snickered as he realized she was a mite on the short side.

"And you," Mav continued, poking Aerrow again for even more emphasis, "don't you have enough sense to know that even a cyclonian can't go for this long without food and water? I haven't eaten for a day, not counting the half a day you shut me in here!"

Aerrow pushed Mav's incriminating index finger towards a less threatening position. "Well, whoever sent you was probably a bad cook anyway. Junko," - here he gestured to the Wallop, who waved and grinned nervously - "isn't all that good either, although Piper isn't all that bad."

"Hey!" said Wallop protested. Aerrow shrugged in good nature. Mav didn't look convinced, but Aerrow was still surprised when she rolled her eyes, extracted her staff again, and whacked Aerrow on the back of his knees before stomping off. The sky knight was too busy trying to stand up to care that the intruder had swept past him, no doubt muttering something about chocolate and the bathroom. Radarr shook a fist in Mav's general direction.

"Feisty, eh?" said Finn, popping up out of seemingly nowhere and making them all jump.

Piper waved it off confidently. "She's a girl. She's probably in a bad mood because unlike you men, women don't like starving themselves...even if some of us do manage to pull it off from time to time," the tactician explained. "I wouldn't be surprised if she were in the kitchen right now looking for something to eat."

She held up her hand when Aerrow made a move to follow her. "If you're so worried about her, let me do the talking. I'm not saying you're not good at this sort of thing, but I think I'd do better."

"Give her a shot, man," added Finn, eager to believe anything of a pretty girl.

Aerrow shrugged Piper's hand off, sighing. It seemed no one believed cyclonians existed nowadays.


	5. Invading

**Chapter Five - Invading**

a k a n t **h a e** - h i _m e_

**Authoress' Note & Disclaimer:** I think Mav's straying from what I imagined her to be. That's not good. Anyway, I don't own and I hate myself for being too poor to buy the stupid copyright.

(Meh. Who'm I kidding? I was destined to be poor.)

-

Mav wasn't in a hurry to get to the kitchen or the bathroom. (She needed both, being a human with simple needs and all.) She walked shiftlessly down the hallways, seemingly going in circles until she found the door to the main hangar. Having been unintentionally successful in invading a lot of people's privacy (none of the rooms were labeled with Keep Out signs or names), she didn't hesitate. Somewhere along the line there had been a bathroom, but she'd been too busy laughing at the sign that said, "To Finn: _**Do Not**_..." (and was thus followed by a list of things he wasn't allowed to do) to bother. The handwriting was pretty bad too, scratchy and covered in ink blots.

Lingering at the main hangar door, which was most impressive and not at all like the side entrance from which Aerrow had appeared and scared her only a day earlier. She swatted at the button on the side, whereafter the door disappeared into slits at the top and bottom of the entrance. More impressed by that than the vehicles in the hangar, Mav's movements were jauntily progressive up to the point where she caught sight of what used to be her craft.

They easily turned jittery after that.

"Look at what you did to my _stuff_!" she protested, sweeping up most of the crystals into the knapsack she'd also rescued from the pile of parts. Stork noted that she didn't seem to care a whit about the vehicle itself, nor enough about him to get past the fact that he was probably not responsible for the death of her vehicle. "I value my crystals more than I do your life!"

"Weren't you supposed to be looking for the kitchen?" inquired Piper, having successfully snuck up on the distracted girl. She blushed in response, flustered and hungry, dropping the knapsack at her feet. Stork's eyes shifted between the two of them like a pair of windshield wipers. He wheezed out what was supposed to be an acknowledgement of his presence.

"Um...Excuse me, but you wouldn't happen to realize you're on the verge of dropping a swarm crystal into that compartment, would you?"

Their eyes followed his finger; they landed on a single blue crystal balancing on the edge of a small container that would essentially be the crystal chamber on a skimmer. Before either Stork or Mav could make a move, Piper snatched the crystal away from the only surviving part of the vessel and held it close to her eyes for examination.

"This is a pretty well-made crystal."

"I have a friend who's good with that sort of thing. He calls himself..." She looked away. "Well, actually, it's a girl, but she can pass for a guy pretty well. All you have to do to push her buttons is call her gender-confused."

Piper nodded. "Whoever that is," she muttered under her breath, before raising her voice and replying with, "You still looking for that kitchen?"

Mav nodded. "I've been going around in circles. It sucks."

Piper jerked her head towards the corridor again. "C'mon. Ignore the 'Do Not' signs on the walls. They're there to tell Finn what he can and can't eat - stuff like that."

Mav snickered. "Like toothpaste, you mean?" she jeered, remembering the fright he'd given her before, but Piper was too far ahead to hear. Behind them, Stork buried his face in his hands and sighed.

His standards for "something better" were dropping exponentially.

-

"So what do you have to eat around here?" Mav inquired, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a funny-looking bottle. Piper, at the counter, wagged her finger.

"Better not touch that. It's Junko's yorka juice. He gets annoyed enough when Finn steals it."

Mav was careful not to drop it when she put the bottle back on the shelf it'd been on.

"Well, what about this?" She pulled out another bottle, this one more of a glass jar, filled with candy.

"Sure. I mean, it's not completely healthy, but it's just some sweets. Tropica's famous for them."

Mav put the jar down, amazed at how much the thing could hold. "It's pretty heavy," she pointed out. "Don't you people like candy?"

"Finn hates them, so we consider them safe to eat, but we've all got stuff we like better. Besides, like I said, it's not healthy. At all."

"I'm fine with it," Mav replied. "I'm not known for being a junkie."

"Mmmhmm." Piper, with the air of an absent-minded daydreamer, plucked one with a purple wrapper out of the jar and popped it into her mouth.

"Hypocrite," her companion muttered before raising her voice and saying, "so what was that all about? And which one of you is Finn again?"

"Define all."

"The stuff you were saying about...what was it, an interrogation?" Mav made a funny gesture with her hands, waving them about as though she knew Piper was only playing around.

Piper's expression changed from one of ease to one of neutrality. "Oh, that." She didn't say anymore; getting frustrated, Mav poked her with an especially long piece of taffy. It lost its shape and melted in her hand, giving off the smell of strawberries.

"Well?" she demanded.

Piper snatched the piece of taffy out of Mav's hand. "We should get started," she pointed out mysteriously. The tactician tugged off a piece, stuffed it into her mouth, and then put the rest back within Mav's grasp.

"Eh?" Mav was clearly confused.

"C'mon."

"What? But I haven't used the bathroom yet!"

-

"The heck?"

Mav stared around at them, perplexed as to why the mere mention of an interrogation had sent them on a rampage. "What'd I do now? Like I said, Starling sent me. I'm not a cyclonian. You can look through my stuff all you want, but all you'll find is my crystals and my clothes!"

"Well, that's the point. Your ride's been broken into spare parts."

Mav waved her hands nervously, rocking on her back two chair legs like Finn would have - had he been there and not with Junko and Stork in the main hangar, shining his skimmer. "Not my problem. If I'd really wanted to leave, I'd have stolen one of your rides. And also, it wasn't my skimmer in the first place. I stole it."

"From where?"

Mav didn't answer.

"From where?" Aerrow echoed.

"Cyclonia; duh. Where else would I get a shabby thing like that? My own ride's way better."

"Well, why didn't you use that?"

Mav fixed Aerrow with a piercing glare. "You think I'd ride my skimmer to Cyclonia, steal the heartstone and - "

She covered her mouth quickly, drawing her gaze to the ground instead of any of their faces.

"Heartstone?"

"What about it?" Mav demanded, trying to cover up her mistake.

"Piper, you have anything?" Aerrow asked. In response, Piper began to rummage through the books she kept in the cockpit - her own room could only hold so much. One flew over Mav's head, whereupon Radarr caught it and began flicking through the tattered pages.

Piper came up from the small avalanche of books with several small volumes. Coming back to the place where Mav sat and Aerrow stood, she began to flip through pages herself, but she stopped in favor of snatching the book Radarr had ("Gimme that!") and adding it to the small pile. They were all books on crystals. Mav reached for a small leather tome, but Radarr swatted her hand away.

"That hurt," she protested, folding her arms.

"Besides," she added, "you're not going to find anything about it in there. Only the council on Atmosia knows anything. They're the only people fool enough to send singular kiddos like me to look for something that dangerous."

"Kiddo?"

She shrugged. "I'm only fourteen. Council protocol may say sky knight squadron _leaders_ must be over eighteen, but for the crew members they do sometimes make exceptions."

"So what squadron is that?"

"I learn from my mistakes, stupid."

Piper looked up from her book. "You mean you're not gonna tell us."

"Nope. Not unless you stop saying I'm a cyclonian, give me my crystals back, and let me use the bathroom."

"You're still wearing a cyclonian uniform."

"And you call yourself the Storm Hawks, even though everyone knows you're not an official squadron."

"We don't have to be official," Aerrow shoot back, "in order to be heroes."

"And I don't have to be a cyclonian to wear this outfit," she countered. "Which, by the way, is a size too small for me anyway."

Piper put the book down. "Well, she's right, you know. About this heartstone she's talking about - "

"I only mentioned it once," Mav pointed out.

" - and about her outfit." Piper eyed Mav. "She looks like she could wear my stuff, but if she wants her real uniform back, we should give it to her."

With an underhand toss, Piper pulled the mystery squadron uniform from a nearby shelf and gave it up to Mav. She withheld the bag of crystals.

"And my crystals?" Mav asked.

"Mine until further notice," Piper said.

"Whoever Finn is," Mav added, "make sure he doesn't get ahold of my stuff."

Aerrow shrugged. "Wouldn't _dream_ of it."

Mav buried her face in her hands. "Oh, god. They're gonna be dead by the time I'm finished changing."

"I'm sure your friend can make you some more," Piper replied nonchalantly.

"Friend?" Aerrow seemed confused.

"Yep. A friend who's good at making crystals, it seems, and has a special knack for," - here she opened the bag to study them momentarily - "weather crystals. I don't see a heartstone, though."

"That's because I failed to get it," Mav muttered. "And Starling failed along with me."

But before Aerrow could ask about Starling, Mav swept out of the room in a hustle, obviously intent on finding the bathroom more than anything else. The only thing Aerrow could do was watch Mav's silhouette move down the corridor. Piper snapped her book shut with a crack, making Aerrow jump. Piper glanced over in Aerrow's general direction, more towards the ground than his face.

"You should go after her."

"Not to the bathroom, I'm not."


	6. Self Explanatory

**Chapter Six - Self-Explanatory**

a k a n t **h a e** - h i _m e_

**Authoress' Note & Disclaimer:** See, this is one of those chapters where I hope to all the powers that be that I'm not overdoing the dialogue. Honestly, I only got 3/4 through this chapter before I got a plot bunny and went ahead to near the end and started to write that, so I was pretty distracted when I started writing this again. I suspect this may actually be a segmented fic I finish.

Actually, no I don't. If I say that out loud, I'll curse myself and my chance of ever owning the Storm Hawks copyright! (Which, as of now, is not mine.)

-

It only took Mav ten minutes to finish changing and so forth. When she emerged from the bathroom, there was no one out in the hallway stalking her every move - something she'd have expected from someone as stubborn and pig-headed as she thought Aerrow was...in spite of his looks. With a toss of her head, she trounced off towards the cockpit again in a much better mood than she'd been earlier. (Although she was still hungry.)

-

The door slid open unexpectedly. Aerrow, Stork, and Finn were the only ones inside, Piper having gone off to her room and taken Mav's crystals with her. They were both surprised by Mav's sudden appearance...in more than one definition of the word.

She didn't look like the same girl that had stepped on board the Condor just the day earlier. This girl was taller - her boots had slight heels fitted with tiny spikes for grip - and more battle-ready, with several crystal-fitted knives (from where, he didn't know) at her belt. Aerrow let out a whistle, thereupon Mav scowled and broke the effect.

"You don't think enough," Stork muttered dispassionately. Finn, on the other hand, looked positively delighted with the turn of events.

"And...lemme clarify this for a second, but who exactly are you again?"

Mav held up her middle finger. "You're still a lech, what's-your-face."

Finn ran a hand through his hair, the obvious insult bouncing off his ego easily. "Name's Finn. Sharpshooter _and_ lady's man."

She smirked. "Don't eat the toothpaste."

Aerrow rolled his eyes. "And what's this all about?"

"Well, first of all, now that I'm dressed properly," Mav replied, indicating with fervor her high collar, light armor plating, and affinity for dark grey fabric, "you can't call me a cyclonian, smart aleck. And even if you did, I wouldn't be."

She folded her arms. "Second, I want my crystals back. And third, if you're not going to listen about Starling and all the stuff I came here to recruit you guys for, I'm leaving."

She turned to leave, but Aerrow caught up with her and snatched her arm. "There's a lot of things wrong with that. Let's start with the fact this could be a disguise; and Piper's still got your crystals. Plus, we'd listen if we knew for certain you weren't a cyclonian, but you haven't done anything to convince me otherwise."

"Except for refraining from stabbing you where you stand? Yeah, thanks." She tugged a dagger out of her belt and jabbed him with the hilt for emphasis. "I feel really confident now, especially when Starling needs your help," - another jab - "and you're just sitting here wondering whether her little messenger girl is the real thing or not. I love your noble instincts."

Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Oh, and also? I'm hungry."

Another jab.

Aerrow tugged the dagger from her grip, throwing it over his shoulder carelessly. Finn ducked. It sailed over his head and skidded to a stop near the window. "Look, can't we just talk about this?"

"Like you'll listen? Yeah. Sure," Mav replied angrily, tugging a chair from the table (Finn's chair, whereupon he fell to the ground with a rattle) and sitting down. Aerrow also took a seat, cupping his chin in his hand.

"You start," he offered.

"Oh, I _**will**_. But...you'd better get your crew here too. Can't have you being the only audience member."

-

Mav folded her hands in her lap, looking resolutely around to where Junko sat, to where Radarr was perched on Aerrow's shoulder, to where Piper still fiddled with the crystals that were rightfully Mav's, and all the rest.

"I don't suppose," she began, "that - being an unofficial squad and all - you've ever heard of the heartstone."

"Nope."

"No."

"Never heard of it."

Mav didn't wait for any more answers, merely waving her hands around and then starting to speak again.

"Well, now you have. And now I'm gonna tell you what it has to do with me, you, Starling, and Cyclonis."

She tapped a finger against her cheek. "By the way, now would be a good time to stop messing with my hail crystal, Piper. Thanks."

Piper made no response.

"The heartstone is said, according to the council, which is actually right some of the time, to be am embodiment of a power far beyond anything that we have ever seen. It's a creation made by the first Cyclonis. The one that actually knew what he was doing, that is, when he made the thing. You know the Aurora Stone? It's destroyed now, but that beacon crystal held only about a tenth of the power the heartstone has. Its main purpose was an outlet for Cyclonis' power - somewhere he could store his energy, his thoughts, even part of his essence. It's referred to as the heartstone, but the essence is a better name in my opinion."

She closed her eyes.

"You know all about your successors, I suppose, like everyone does, though almost everyone's forgotten their faces. They were a great squadron, I'll admit that much, but they overlooked the heartstone when Cyclonis was defeated. They thought it would die out, that it would no longer be of any use to anything or anyone, after Cyclonis died: just like all the rest of the artificial crystals he was making. All dead, drained of their power mere seconds after the Storm Hawks performed what was supposed to be their last mission."

Even Piper was listening now, the book forgotten on the tabletop.

"The heartstone was his first success."

She opened her eyes again, but they were unfocused as if Mav had told this story a dozen times over - which wasn't all that impossible. She was young, the same age as Aerrow, but she had the look of a war veteran.

"The Aurora Stone was his second."

The shock on the Storm Hawks' faces was enough to make Mav realize that maybe they hadn't known all about the original Storm Hawks after all.

"That's right: the beacon of truth and justice and all those things we sky knights fight for was the work of the epitome of evil. It's a fantastic thing, isn't it, history?"

Mav snorted, standing up and facing the glass window. She made no motion towards the window, however, and her shoulders sagged as though she didn't want to be saying what she was.

"But the heartstone lived on, if I can say it in such a cliche fashion. It lived and it manifested itself in the hearts of men, women and monsters you know as the Talons. It had power, it had life, and it had immortality. The Talons have said it's no more than a crystal, unaware of what it's done to them, but Cyclonis knew - and knows, as she does now, that even though wielding the heartstone will kill what humanity she has left, perhaps even kill her, the things that the heartstone whispers to her are all true. It will give her power beyond our imagining if we let her use it, but so far she hasn't."

The stave-user shrugged.

"She's only toying with us until she can find proper use for the heartstone. Until she can find the heartstone itself, actually."

Piper fixed Mav with her darkest, most inquiring look. "So what do we do?"

"I'm getting to that. Appreciate a good story, will you?"

"Where does Starling come in, anyway?" asked Aerrow.

"Later," Mav replied, dismissing him as easily as if she were a teacher and he her student. "Now, about that heartstone: every once in a while, when Cyclonia experiences a power surge, our good council sends a two-man team to investigate, should the pulse be a sign that Cyclonis has somehow found the heartstone - even her _handling_ it would give off immense power, she being a villainous heir to the original Cyclonis and all. None of you have ever been sent because you're not an official squad...but I have. Actually, I was sent rather recently: only a few days ago, assigned to work with Starling because even though her squadron was...well..."

Mav winced at the mere thought of the Interceptors. "But she's still a great sky knight, so I was sent along as co-pilot and tactician, though why they need a tactician for anything short of a squadron beats me."

As proof, she tugged a dagger from her belt and threw it in the air, catching it by the tip moments later. "It's only a hobby of mine anyway."

Mav sighed. "The mission went well, I'll admit: right up until the point where we were both knocked out by nothing more than a fucking flash of light."

Her attitude changed immediate and she banged her fist on the table. "We almost had it! It was literally **in our hands**, but we missed the opportunity."

They all looked stunned at Mav's sudden fury, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come.

"Starling they kept. Me they sent back as a warning to council as what happens to people who snoop around looking for something that's not theirs. The council doesn't know I'm here and I'd like it to stay that way."

_She __**looks**__ fine_, thought Aerrow, confused as to why they'd go to the trouble of keeping one hostage and making another a messenger.

Finn held up a hand. "I have a question."

"And what would that be?" Mav waved her hand in his direction.

"If you didn't get this heartstone you're talking about, why don't you go back and try again? I mean, I can understand why you're mad, but why do you need us? What can we do?"

"Because as much as I'd like to do this on my own, a one-man...woman, 'scuse me, team isn't enough. Neither was a two-man team, might I add. I need a whole squadron for this, with all the kinks and advantages that come out of just being a squadron."

"Well, why not go to another squadron, or ask your own?" Piper looked about as confused as Aerrow felt.

"I've tried. Most of them are too scared to go up against Cyclonis...and some of them I didn't even ask, knowing they'd just drag me back to the council, who would no doubt then proceed to dub Starling dead or I a traitor - which, though you won't believe me, I'm not. Starling's not dead either. And since Starling was kind enough to tell me about the new (but not official) Storm Hawks, I figured you would help."

Mav looked around. "Although," she added, "that's not the case, considering now that the ride I stole is screwed, I need to go back and get my own, not to mention that I need to find a way to rescue Starling and find the heartstone that got me into this mess. This is the fate of Atmos we're talking about here."

"I thought you wanted our help," protested Junko.

"Well, I do, but I don't think you're too keen on doing it."

"And what about your own squadron, anyway?" demanded Finn. Radarr nodded in agreement.

Mav paused before she answered.

"They're gone."

"Dead?"

"No. They just don't exist anymore. People have forgotten. My terra, the terra I swore to protect, is gone; and with it has gone the people that I would have come to first. Instead, there was you. You know, Terra Yern used to be a great place five years ago."

She looked towards the window again.

"Before the cyclonians killed every living thing here."


	7. Reminiscent

**Chapter Seven - Reminiscent**

a k a n t **h a e** - h i _m e_

**Authoress' Note & Disclaimer:** Hmm. 209 total reads. Makes me wonder why I don't have any reviews, eh? My eyes must be deceiving me. But don't worry. I'm not one of those people who waits until five people review before putting up the next chapter. I'm too impatient for that sort of thing.

I think I'm beginning to worry too much about Mav's character. She's either really resilient - or she's a Sue (and I really suspect the latter, truth be told). I should run her through a test to be sure.

-

"I'm fourteen, you know," she said, though it was more to herself than to anyone else. "That makes me nine when it happened."

She nodded absent-mindedly.

"That's right. I'm fourteen. Makes me one of the youngest kiddos to join a sky knight squadron ever, except maybe Goose, formerly a Rebel Duck, even if it was only through a loophole. That wasn't even a year before - "

"Loophole?" interrupted Junko. Piper glanced at him disapprovingly, but Mav didn't seem to mind.

"In the code. Something about someone in a squadron - aside from the leader - being able to name a replacement...but it never said anything about there being an age limit or requirement, only that the one chosen must be at least as skilled as the one who was lost. Squadrons rarely lose one member at a time during battle; usually it's the whole squadron or none of them. The rule's been out of use for ages, although it hasn't been changed in the centuries the code's been around, so no one really cared until my da named me to take over his job. "

She waved her hands around again, as if she wasn't sure what to do now, and then sat down with a defeated look on her face.

"You probably don't care and I shouldn't be telling you about this anyway, but if it'll make you trust me I don't care. I'm over that. They're all dead. What can I do? I'm no god and I'd really rather not be."

The look on her face grew defiant, in denial, as she stood up again. Her very presence screamed, "Go ahead. Ask me if I'm lying. I'm sure you're dying to know." It made Aerrow wonder if she wasn't really making it up.

Finn looked her up and down. "I know this'll seem really harsh," he said, "but don't you think it was sorta stupid telling us all that?"

Mav shot him a look. "Thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed my life story enough to mock it."

"Well, I'm not the drama queen right now."

"I have a right!" Mav protested. "And besides, me being your fantastic new storyteller and all, don't you even care how it happened? This is your..._our_ job: to care about other people and protect Atmos!"

Finn nodded, rubbing his chin as if in thought. "Right, right. By the way, are you still hungry?"

Mav was taken surprise by his question. She blushed, distracted, when her stomach began emitting supisciously earthquake-esque sounds.

She sat down suddenly, putting her head down on the table in embarassment.

"I just remembered I can't survive two days without food. Can't we...I dunno, put this whole interrogation thing off until after lunch?"

-

"So being called a lech finally got to you, huh? Well, I don't blame her," teased Aerrow.

"You sent me," argued Finn. Radarr snickered with amusement.

"Actually, that was Piper."

Finn shrugged, scratching his head. "Well, at least I get some downtime now. Where is Piper, anyway?"

"Well, now that we've got the whole who's who thing sorted out, she's in the hangar trying to convince Stork to save some of the spare parts for fixing the Heliscooter. Sometimes I can't understand why she doesn't just use a skimmer like the rest of us. Junko's in the kitchen and Mav's with him. So that just leaves us, sitting here while I feel sorry for Mav because this is so personal for her and you...well, I don't know what you're doing."

"She's a hypocrite."

"Well, no. I was thinking more of a drama queen. Starvation gets to people, you know. And you know what she meant when she mentioned the toothpaste. We can't help it if she reads signs, especially the ones Stork puts up. Those are _everywhere_," Aerrow pointed out.

"I tried taking them down, but then Stork comes after me with a wrench."

Stork, at the controls, cleared his throat loudly.

"I protest. Usually, I send Radarr or Piper." The hypochondriac jumped when steam came rushing out of a nearby pipeline; he easily mended it by whacking the valve with the same wrench Finn was talking about.

"Yeah, yeah." Finn blushed. "Same thing."

"I still feel pretty sad for her."

"Bet you wouldn't if you didn't think she was pretty. Which even Piper thinks you do."

Aerrow snorted. "Now who's the hypocrite?"

("So you _do_ like her!")

-

"Sandwich. Yum."

"I can't make anything else right...well, except toast. And cereal."

Junko sat across from Mav. The apron was badly stained and the Wallop had yet to wash the dishes, but Mav had to admit he was probably a better cook than she was. She waved his comment off with a jam-stained finger.

"Don't worry about it. I can't cook to save my life, not even toast, so sandwiches are a regular thing for me," she joked.

"Well, I tried to find something better so I wouldn't have to cook, but Finn ate all the cookies and ," replied Junko.

Silence ensued. Mav wasn't exactly cultural (or religious, or wise) and she hadn't ever really met a Wallop that wasn't brutally strong before, not one this intelligent either; she just concentrated on her grape jam sandwich with all the fever of a starving man...which she was, minus the man.

Junko scratched his head nervously. "Well, I'm sorry about your family."

Mav stopped chewing. "I'll be fine. I've survived five years without that lot. The most I owe to them is gratitude, all the money I spent on flying lessons, and my career. I don't think they can do much with that. I'm not even sure if heaven uses the same currency we do."

It was a forced laugh that followed. She swallowed, proceeding to lick the traces of jam off her fingers and wipe her hands on a napkin, and then pushed her chair back. While standing, Mav fingered the two daggers at her side, pulling one out with a theatrical tug. It looked more showy than a regular knife, but the blades were dingy and scratched.

"See these? They're not much more than trinkets, but I had wanted to give them to my older brother for his birthday when I was really, really little. A squirt. He was part of the same squadron my da was part of - neither of them leader, but it was my brother that had intended to get me into the squadron, not my da. And my ma disapproved, so I snuck off in the middle of the night and put them in my brother's skimmer."

Junko nodded, folding his arms. "Family heirloom?" He'd pronounced heirloom wrong, but Mav understood. She shook her head.

"Nope. Cheap, two-bit things, they were - but the only things I really liked better than messing with crystals, which I'm not too good with either. No antique or whatever you're thinking of. Just cheap little knives I'd used in training with my da - he taught me how to fight, but I'm better with maps than pointy things. I switched to a staff later on, in case you were wondering, because the squad had more use for a tactician than a fighter. I can use both."

Bluntly, though not on purpose, Junko replied, "You like talking."

"Glad you noticed."

Mav sat back down. Her eyes were glassy and she seemed drunk on her own memories.

"So I snuck them in my brother's skimmer, but do you know what the stupid idiot did? He sat on them. He didn't check before getting in his skimmer, just sat down, and then next thing you know, he's sitting at home with a hole in his arse - **two** holes in his arse - giving me the daggers back because he didn't know how to use them."

She began to stutter.

"So - s-so I keep 'em."

The former sky knight put the dagger down, massaging the bridge of her nose with the other hand. It slowly crept up to wipe away what Junko thought were tears. There were dark wrinkles underneath both of her eyes, something he hadn't noticed before, but they weren't for lack of sleep. As he watched, they smeared all over Mav's knuckles, proof that it was only poorly applied make-up. Underneath the areas were traces of puffy red.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't have to," he offered in consolation.

She smiled at Junko, snorting loudly into a napkin and throwing it away after a bout of hiccups.

"There's nothing wrong about it - what's so wrong about thinking about the good old days? Childhood's good. You get free candy from the neighbors, don't you?"

Junko offered her another napkin, which Mav took. After wiping away the rest of the eyepaint, of which there was only a minor amount, Mav threw both napkins in the trash and grinned goofily.

"I like you. You're not a lech like your friend. In fact, you're pretty nice."

This time when she stood up, Mav made a move towards the swinging door of the kitchen, gesturing to Junko shakily.

"We should get started," was all she said.

-

**A/N:** I ran her through that Sue test. She's a borderline Sue that can still be saved. I'll have to work harder on her.


	8. Obstinate

**Chapter Eight - Obstinate**

a k a n t **h a e** - h i _m e_

**Authoress' Note & Disclaimer:** Okay, so Gregor and the Code of Claw is a great book up until the part where he leaves the Underland. I was hoping he would stay - honestly, I was, because Luxa needs the love like you and I need air. If you haven't read the book yet, you should...it and the four novels that precede, which are dubbed Overlander, Prophecy of Bane, Curse of Warmbloods, and Marks of Secret.

(It's a series called the Underland Chronicles. Each title is preceded by "Gregor and the" except for the first, which is simply "Gregor the.")

Concerning the fic, it's getting further than I ever thought it would. Writing chaptered fic is hard for me, like I've said, and you should consider that I mostly write FF XII fic; namely one-shots, sentence collections and the ilk. This is somewhat new and Wikipedia has been a great help.

If you review, I'd ask that you tell me what you think of Mav. She's a drama queen on purpose, you know, and if I work hard enough to emphasize her flaws you won't notice any of her potential Sue-ness. Ack. Gives me a bad taste in my mouth imagining a Sue.

I own the plot and Mav; and if any of you steal it/her, I will come and eat your children or some such dastardly thing that evil fic-writers do to people who steal their possessions.

-

Mav took a quavering breath. "Okay. Let's see what we can do now."

Aerrow raised a brow. "You okay?" He could see smears of black on her fingers, which she rubbed onto her clothes quickly. Further scrutiny yielded that the area around her eyes (which hadn't changed color and were still a simple shade of light blue) was pink. He had enough tact to refrain from asking if she'd been crying, but Finn didn't, although he successfully managed to sound sympathetic when he inquired: "You been crying?"

The state of her cheeks followed suit with her eyelids, turning a dark, bruise-like red. She denied the charges fiercely.

"Never in a million years would I cry in front of you."

Finn poked Aerrow in the ribs. "I think it's your fault," he muttered.

Mav cleared her throat loudly. It was obvious that she was signaling to Finn to shut up and let her talk.

-

Piper pulled out a map off-hand, no doubt earlier scrounged from her pile of such geographic aids. It was with ease that she spread it out on the table, pursing her lips when the old piece of parchment rolled back up into a scroll. She snatched a book off the floor and propped it on one of the map's corners. Radarr was another makeshift paperweight, clambering down from Aerrow's shoulder to sit on another corner of the map. Piper held another corner down. Mav would have put a dagger onto her corner, but Piper swatted it away, knowing what would happen if she tried. With a sigh, Mav pushed the map down with her left hand; her other, obviously her dominant hand, tucked the knife into her belt.

"Cyclonia's not far from here and we should be able to do this easy-peasy...rescuing Starling, I mean, not the heartstone. Heartstone we'll probably have to work hard for. Starling's just one person, no matter how famous she is, and I wouldn't put it past someone like the Dark Ace to underestimate her. It's scary how short she is compared to him."

Mav shuddered, Radarr rolling his eyes at her off-topic rambling. She shot him a look before continuing.

"But first, before we go dashing off to Cyclonis, I need my ride so I won't have to hitch with someone else and be even more of a nuisance than you think I am. That part's easy."

She removed her hand from the map, forcing Piper to slam her other hand down before the map of Atmos (an entire map, complete with tiny detail and color illustration, and Piper's best resource for battle strategy) quickly. Finn gave her an appreciative look; her reflexes were excellent. Piper smiled and rolled her eyes patronizingly.

Mav moved towards the window. She left fingerprints visible on the otherwise spotless glass as she pointed to the terra beneath them, surrounded by clouds that were lit up with gray and red smoke from the Wastelands nearby. It was covered in dead trees and rotting debris, most of it overgrown with fleshy green plants.

"I told you Terra Yern used to be a great place, but it wasn't all that different from Rex. It was beautiful and peaceful, but only the Yearnings knew what war meant - more than the Rex Guardians did before that incident with the phoenix crystal, eh? I hear they're acting like a real squadron now. But the ancestors of the people there were all war refugees running from the first Cyclonis. They wanted to forget, even if they didn't have a code to rely on and be blind for. They could have found a better terra on the other side of Atmos, but this was such a secluded terra, they thought they would be safe. They were wrong about everything but this being a secluded terra."

Piper raised a brow. "How do you know all this, anyway? And what does this have to do with your skimmer?"

"It's a Slip-Wing, not a Skimmer model like what most people use, but whatever. Point is, no one comes here anymore, not even the Talons. There's no crystals here to mine; Cyclonis assumed there was, but she was wrong. She killed everyone here on a whim, to perserve her addiction to power, and the Yearnings disbanded out of shame for their dead terra. She was smart, Cyclonis. Nabbed Yern while we were off at a flyer race, so caught up with making a name for our terra that we ignored obvious signs of threat."

Her face showed a mixture of distaste, shame and anger, all ugly emotions.

"And also," she added momentarily, "I lived here, remember? Lived here for my entire life up until age nine. I think I have a right to know things."

She ran her fingers along the glass, much to Stork's silent protest, and left even more streaks. Pointing to an unintelligible spot on the edge of the forest, covered in shadow from the Condor itself, she turned and smiled.

"That's where my Slip-Wing is."

Aerrow wondered - but only for a moment - if it was such a coincidence that she used the same vehicle model as Starling.

-

**A/N:** In explanation concerning the top-note on this, one word: hyper. If you've ever been a book-obsessed kid, you'll know what I mean. I also apologize for the chapter's shortness. I need a beta-reader, too, because I don't think Meii's ever seen Storm Hawks. She's more oriented towards Harry Potter. Her username is INELEGANTpoetry and she rules the universe. Thank you for your time, reviews, and reads - among other things.


	9. Pristine

**Chapter Nine - Pristine**

a k a n t **h a e** - h i _m e_

**Authoress' Note & Disclaimer:** I get tired of disclaimers after a while. Thus, this next disclaimer applies to all following chapters until it expires or I forget it exists...which, I can assure you, may be as soon as the next chapter or as late as the last. You don't care, so just skip down to the actual story.

_I do not, under any circumstances, own __Storm Hawks__, affect its creation, or claim to have done either of the above. My only claims in this fic are to Mav and to the plot itself; anything to suggest otherwise is merely a figment of your imagination because I am in no way affiliated with the creators and/or producers of the show and its merchandise._

(Why would they want a twelve-year-old on their work force anyway? I'm not even old enough to get a minimum wage.)

-

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Finn grinned sheepishly, mirroring the expression on Aerrow's face, the one that slowly grew into vapid determination.

"We'll be there and back in a flash. No problem, if what you've been telling us is true," promised the sky knight.

Mav smiled back. "Well, at least you don't think I'm a Talon anymore."

Aerrow ran a hand through his hair, replying with, "About that. Sorry for not believing you in the first place."

"Mmm? Oh, that. Well, I think next time," Mav answered, "maybe you ought to listen before you make assumptions. Starling said she'd called ahead for a rendezvous with you Storm Hawks, so I'd hoped that you already knew about me. You probably thought I was trying to masquerade as Starling."

Piper nodded. "Actually, yeah. That's what Aerrow here thought, but he decided you were a Talon instead, from the look of things, and thought we could figure out where Starling was if we asked _nicely_."

"Thanks, Piper." Sarcasm triumphed over humility - Piper laughed in response. "But seriously, I trust you now."

Mav sighed, shaking her head. "As long as you don't lock me in another room again...or try to sneak into my bed at night."

"Say _what_?" Finn's jaw dropped. He was just as oblivious to the situation as Junko was.

Aerrow massaged his temples in exasperation. "It was nothing, Finn. I was just checking up on her."

Mav ignored Aerrow's comment, as did Piper. When Piper snatched the map off the table, Radarr snarled at the piece of parchment but was otherwise unmoved.

The not-cyclonian glanced over at the little blue furball with some measure of wonderment. "So," she said, chewing her words around slowly, "who am I riding with?"

-

They entered the main hangar one by one, drifting off to their separate crafts. Piper hung onto Mav as an older sister would do a younger one, but Mav brushed her off gently.

"I appreciate the gesture, really, but are you sure that Heliscooter was built for two? I think I'll just ride with Finn; I can handle it."

Piper glanced over her shoulder in Finn's direction, quirking her eyebrow in confusion. "Honestly?"

Mav grinned and saluted the tactician. "Well, wish me luck."

She crossed the hangar to where Finn was clambering into his skimmer; he grabbed at the sides of the craft before hoisting himself into the pilot's seat. The wingman followed up by adjusting the lens of the bowgun mounted on the front of the vehicle. As Mav approached him from the behind, she looked over the skimmer to where the wings would emerge in the air, then to the metal plating where it looked like the entire thing had been sliced in half quite a few times.

Finn was startled when she brushed a hand over the marred front, tracing that metal plating with her forefinger.

"What did this?" she asked.

Finn made a noise that sounded remotely like a cross between a grunt and a tch. "The Dark Ace, that's who. He's sliced my skimmer in half more times than you can count on both hands."

He patted his skimmer fondly, glancing up at where Mav stood. Waving his hand towards Piper, he sulked blatantly, saying, "Aren't you gonna ride with Piper?"

Mav fingered her chin, pondering his question with obvious amusement. "Actually," she replied, grinning, "I'm coming with you."

He looked confused, which Mav took as acceptance of her answer. She eased herself behind Finn without another word, although when he began to protest, she rang out with, "Don't take this the wrong way, stupid. I just need a little time away from Piper and Aerrow: they bicker like an old couple. And I'm definitely not _your_ girlfriend."

She accentuated her remark by flicking him on the forehead. He smirked, asking playfully, "Whose, then?"

Mav blushed at his quip, deliberately avoiding looking in Aerrow's direction. Finn's smirk widened so his teeth showed through.

"Lucky guy."

She laughed at that, making everyone else look their way. Junko saluted the two, Mav purposely avoiding clinging to Finn when the skimmer wings emerged. Stork had vouched to stay back in order to "protect the _Condor_."

There was the minute before the shutter-type door opened, and then there was the minute after. Mav wasn't sure which one she preferred.

-

The foliage below was stunning, but it didn't make for a very interesting view after five minutes of seeing the same trees again and again. Once in a while the trees would part and show the surface of a river; once, with a murmur of disbelief, both Junko and Piper caught sight of the waterfall it ultimately led to, all mist and clear water where it collided with the heat of the lava rivers in the Wastelands below. Mav was easily heard over the rush of the wind in their hair, having let Stork take custody of the odd helmet she'd worn at first, when she pointed out numerous clusters of stony ruin and the spring in the center of the terra. The water got progressively dirtier leading from the waterfall to the source.

"Over there!" Mav's finger was almost incriminating when they finally saw what she was pointing to: a large, pristine, shrub-overgrown statue of an elfin-looking woman. She brushed back her hair when she grinned, spitting some of it out of her mouth, and pushed Finn's hands off the controls so she could lean over and use them herself. The pseudo-pilot broke formation to go into an immediate dive towards the statue.

Finn, of course, protested with, "Hey, hey. Gimme that."

He snatched the joystick out of her hands and set a steadier course. Piper came up along them, looking at the two squabbling over the controls with amusement. "Save that for when you two get married!" she called out, prompting Finn to let go of the controls and stare at Piper with disgust. While Mav was preoccupied with squealing and landing, he mouthed to his fellow Storm Hawk, "She's Aerrow's girl. Off-limits, remember?"

Piper laughed at that, prompting Mav glance over at her in confusion. She flicked a switch on the headboard before retracting the wings in a rush. All of them, especially Aerrow, looked confused, but Mav didn't notice because she was busy landing. Swerving in a hurry, Finn grabbed the joystick again so the vehicle stopped mere feet away from the pedestal the statue sat on. It seemed to surprise him to know that Mav was enjoying this, but the other Storm Hawks were more confused as to what the statue was doing there...at the edge of a precipice.

-

Aerrow dismounted first, then Radarr, Junko, Finn, and Piper. Mav didn't notice the "crowd" forming, too busy looking up at the statue. Even Piper had to admit it was an especially amazing piece of art, however, so realistic it seemed that it would move at any moment. Aerrow didn't want to see that, though, because although the statue was of a woman and her eyes were closed, nothing changed the fact that she had an extra set of hands. The first pair made an act out of drawing back a notched bowstring, whereas the second fingered the strings of a harp. The harp was missed its strings - or so it seemed until Aerrow peered closer and saw that the strings were there, but overgrown with a tangle of nightshade. That went for the bowstring and the tip of the arrow, which was conventional and simple but not crystal-powered like a normal bolt.

As they had all noticed, the statue was the only grey thing again a mass of brown and green, standing at the edge of a cliff where it threatened to fall forward. The smallest hint of feet poked out from underneath the long, embroidered robe (each detail so painstakingly etched, from the crane on the sleeve to the intricate whorls on the collar), but it was weathered and chinks marred the cold surface of the face, almost twice Mav's height. It seemed taller because she was bowing to it; and all the more mystical because Mav was so ordinary-looking.

Piper stepped forward first, studying the statue with interest. "It's beautiful," she stated simply and in awe.

"Her name," said Mav, "is Mavourneen, patron saint of the city of Sorora, situated here at Terra Yern, and protector of its sky knight squadron the Yearnings. She was the first sky knight for Terra Yern and one of the first few to be female. I was named after here."

Mav turned around, smiling grimly. "Lady Mavourneen was slaughtered by the first Cyclonis, forever remembered as the best sky knight Terra Yern ever had, but better known as a regular old Joan of Arc - she was a scholar, you know, and only took up the blade after her father died. It's an old folktale most people believed in more than anything else."

She shrugged, turning back to the statue and bowing even lower. "It's a poor excuse for a goddess, but it was all we had. I'm surprised this old relic even survived, considering not a single soul except for the Yearnings themselves survived the...incident five years ago."

She looked up towards the headdress the idol wore, a circlet boasting an inset alcove where a crystal might once have been placed.

"Look."

They did.

"There's supposed to be a crystal there. This is only one of five statues, each with varying design, but all of the Lady. There was another, the largest, made almost entirely of crystal, in the central plaza at Sorora, but I suppose Cyclonis took that too. These statues were why she thought there were veins of ore here...raw crystals just waiting for people like her to come and get them. She overlooked that we import much of our resources from other terras; why not the crystals, too?"

Mav brightened visibly after a moment of silence. "But that's neither here nor there," she said decisively, "although I was right when I told you this was where my ride was. See?"

She moved so that she was kneeling in front of the hem of the statue's marble robes. Prying her stubby fingernails into the crack between an unreadable plaque and the pedestal (almost her height and definitely big enough to fit a skimmer inside), Mav pulled away the thin layer of limestone to reveal the bike hidden behind it. There was dust and cobwebs over it, but it was definitely a Slip-Wing.

-

**A/N:** That's pronounced _Muh-vehr-nihn_, by the way.


	10. Deadly

**Chapter Ten - Deadly**

a k a n t **h a e** - h i _m e_

**Authoress' Note & Disclaimer:** Yay, a fight-scene! I love fight-scenes.

(Disclaimer's in chapter nine.)

-

Aerrow folded his arms, surveying Mav's Slip-Wing with interest. It looked exactly like Starling's, perhaps with a bit more armor and a different logo embellished on the sides and wings.

"Well," he began, clearing his throat, "now that we're all set for a trip to Cyclonia, I guess it wouldn't be so bad if we practiced first."

Mav looked at him with surprise: every minute they spent dawdling (especially the first day on the _Condor_, which they all remembering with startling clarity) was another minute that increased the chance Starling was going to rot in a dungeon forever. And - as if Aerrow didn't know already - forever was a long time.

"You're crazy, right?" Piper mirrored Mav's look with intensity.

"No. I just think it wouldn't be so bad going into a potential battle without knowing what we can all do."

He gestured to himself, Finn, and Junko.

"I know you usually stay on the Condor, but I was thinking more of our wonderful Mav here."

"Wonderful? Well, that's great coming from the crazy xenophobic who locked me in a storage closet because he thought I was a cyclonian. And if you're looking for a fight," she added, poking him with a stubby fingernail, "you just got one."

Her words were enunciated by her actions when she tugged her staff from her belt. Clutching a purple striker crystal in one hand and her staff in another, she explained, "Usually I'd do this right before we flew out, but I don't think we're using our skimmers, are we?"

Aerrow grinned devilishly. "Actually...that wouldn't be so bad. We should fly."

Mav smiled in response, but the gesture was thin and teasing, accompanied by a nod of her head. Tendrils of pale blonde curled around her ears, no longer held in check by said ears.

"Find me a co-pilot and maybe I will," was her reply.

-

Mav was beginning to regret her decision.

"You're sure you'll co-pilot?"

Piper grinned. "I refuse to let Finn get what he wants."

"Yeah?" answered Mav, running her hand over the controls of her Slip-Wing. "Well, I should warn you: my ride wasn't built for two."

"I know. That's why I'm using my Heliscooter: it can hover while I fly your Slip-Wing. Stork recently added autopilot to all of our vehicles except Aerrow - he does have Radarr, after all, so I think you should be glad I know Sky Fu. You've got no idea how deadly Radarr can be in battle."

Mav raised a brow. "The blue thing? That pet?"

Piper broke into breathy giggles. "Pet? Hardly!"

-

Three vehicles were set along the rim of the terra, one Heliscooter, one Slip-Wing, and one skimmer. All were ready to fly, whereas Stork shook anxiously on the sidelines just waiting for one of them to die. He carried a first aid kit with him, but Finn was constantly messing with the band-aids and Stork had proceeded to sit on it for utmost safety. In his head, Stork made a note to add band-aids to the list of Finn Untouchables.

Aerrow glanced over at Radarr in the co-pilot's seat, unsure what to do.

Junko, the loudest of them all except Finn, waved his arm as a signal to start their vehicles.

They all took off when he bellowed, "Ready, steady, **go**!"

Aerrow was the first in the air. Mav could tell he had great reflexes, but so did she. She was the next to take off, followed momentarily by Piper - her vehicle was, after all, built for fuel economy rather than speed.

Radarr took the wheel with ease, right after he threw a screwdriver out at Mav. Mav ducked, too afraid to try and catch the thing for fear of piercing her palm through and through. Piper did catch it, proving that she also had exemplary reflexes, throwing it right back. Radarr shook his fist in disapproval.

"I don't think he likes me!" Mav yelled, staff in one hand and other on her Slip-Wing controls. Piper's Heliscooter aligned with Mav's ride, Piper jumping in and taking the controls mere moments before Mav somersaulted onto one of the retractable wings. Aerrow and Radarr had already done the same, though Aerrow stayed poised to jump back down into his skimmer's cockpit, just in case. The Heliscooter, on autopilot, immediately came in for a gentle landing on the _Condor_. The carrier was docked on the only clear spot of land on the whole terra that wasn't covered in forest or city ruins.

Piper and Radarr both proved themselves to be good pilots. The two vehicles swerved to avoid each other; Aerrow took a jab at Mav, which she parried with a thwack from her staff. It glanced off his shoulder.

"First hit!" Mav called, already enjoying the feeling of weightlessness air combat provided.

"Not much of a hit, if you ask me!"

Mav snorted playfully. Piper brought the Slip-Wing close to the skimmer, letting Mav take a leap for the skimmer's wing. Radarr hit the controls so swiftly that Mav's landing missed. Piper caught her moments later, adrenaline causing the girl to pant heavily and sweep tendrils of blonde out of her eyes.

"He wants to play rough," was all she said of explanation when she jumped off again. The action surprised all of them, even Junko and Finn, the latter of which began to run around trying. Stork covered his eyes, wondering if Mav had made a will before the beginning of the battle. He doubted it. Aerrow, taking it for a real sign of distress (he doubted she'd had the foresight to bring a parachute, to be honest), was panic-striken when he glanced down at Radarr and said, "Get down there! She hasn't got a parachute!"

Radarr shook his head in disgust, wondering who wouldn't have the foresight for a parachute, and took a dive down before catching Mav easily on the left wing of the skimmer. Her legs were jarred with the impact and they shook when she stood suddenly. Stork surmised the landing hadn't done much for her. She smirked, however, jabbing Aerrow in the small of his back so that he yelped with pain. He followed up by making a very large nick in Mav's weapon. They were both thrown off-balance when Radarr pulled the joystick up, Mav more than Aerrow. She was easily thrown overboard, though by now they were right above the place they had started and it was of little consequence. With a click, Aerrow's personal set of wings unfurled and he sailed easily to the ground, followed by Mav in a parachute.

When her feet touched the ground, she shook her head to clear it. Faintly curled locks of a waif-like blonde floated around her face, stuck together and glossy with the sweat. Apprehension was spelled clearly across Aerrow's features, wondering if she could really fight as well as she could talk, but the feeling of pity turned into the rage of instinct when she charged him unexpectedly, a flurry of blonde and grey and tan. He blocked most of her hits, but the ones that made their mark were ones he could definitely feel. His cheek, neck, and back all ached where she'd managed to land a blow.

Radarr was forced to pull up quickly, leaving them both on the terra as he tried to find a way to land. Piper came in for a landing too, nearly fumbling the controls when she did so because they were so different from her Heliscooter's. Finn cheered vividly for Aerrow, Junko alternated between cheering for the both of them, and Stork merely sighed dismally whenever Finn goaded him to try and cheer. Piper joined them. She did not cheer. It was all too predictable who Radarr was rooting for.

Mav twirled her staff wildly, with no strategy as to blocking. Aerrow had not only put several dents in her weapon, but also in her. A cut here and there was testimony to his work. Stork also noted that Aerrow was doing his best not to seriously hurt her - typical hero, really. The sky knight's strategy was not working. He searched for a way to disarm her and win without making any more injuries, though Mav was making it rather hard on her opponent, darting about in the sleek manner of an agile fighter. She relied on speed, Stork noted, but his analysis was interrupted in a crude fashion when Finn snuck up on the Merb and disarmed him of his precious first aid kit with a cry of, "Alley-oop!"

Aerrow's opponent took a long hard gulp of air before she moved away from him, inches out of his reach. He cleared the distance easily; Mav didn't think to duck when Aerrow made a jab at her skull, just taking the bait with vigor when she lifted her staff to block the blow. It was swept clean out of her hands with little conflict.

Mav did not accept defeat. Instead, she unsheathed the daggers she'd conserved until now, and adopted a defensive stance. Her blue eyes glittered with the difficulty of seeking out a weakness, a chink in Aerrow's armor (both literally and figuratively, as she didn't seem to have the same morals Aerrow boasted). She didn't find one, so she turned her gaze from studying his fighting style to his eyes.

She liked those eyes. They reminded her of what she thought she'd look like in a fight, except for the color - the (rather stupid) one who wouldn't give up no matter what happened. The thought distracted her and gave Aerrow a chance to take another slash at her. The movement knocked a dagger out of one hand, scraping a knuckle that immediately began to bleed, and when he followed up with his other blade Mav's only remaining weapon followed suite.

He finished standing over her triumphantly - it earned whistles of admiration from Finn - with one of her very own daggers at her throat. Beads of sweat were illuminated on her face by the green striker crystal in the handle. The other dagger was inches away from Mav's hand but she made no move towards the handle. Her stave had been thrown into the shade of a nearby tree. Not only were her cheeks flushed, but her eyes were wild and she was having difficulty breathing. Not doubting that she was a sore loser, Aerrow was surprised when she nodded at him. Did she have humility after all?

"I yield."

Apparently so. He moved away from her, rubbing his ribs where she'd whacked him with her stave more than just a few times.

"You're a good fighter," she admitted. "Better than I am."

He sheathed his swords, smiling. "You're not so bad yourself. I like your style. I bet you could match me if you used a sword instead of a staff."

"Staffs are more versatile, with a longer range for attacks," Mav argued. She stood up before continuing to talk. "And I like them better."

"But they're not as good in air combat," he shot back. "And they break easier."

"Do not."

"Do too."

Mav sighed, bending back down to pick up her knife. "Whatever. My point is, the only pointy thing you're getting me to use is a kitchen knife or a dagger. I refuse to use a sword, I _can't_ use a bow, and axes are too heavy for good movement."

"Well, we'll just give you sewing needles, then," joked Finn. Mav ignored his jeer, instead moving around Aerrow towards her dropped stave. The crystal had popped out of the hilt and laid forlorn on the ground feet away. Aerrow got there before her, however, picking up the striker crystal as she picked up the staff. A sharp click came from the weapon as it grew smaller and more manageable.

"Do you want a rematch?" he asked. Mav accepted the crystal thoughtfully, but with her words she threw it over her shoulder, letting Finn fumble with it before settling into an offensive stance with her knives - rather, knife, but Aerrow still held the other. They weren't of the same make Aerrow's were, leading Piper to the conclusion that Aerrow would win hands-down. He used his blades everyday - who knew what Mav did with hers? Cook?

"This time on the ground, of course," she replied.

Aerrow nodded in agreement; it was without words that he handed Mav back her knife as well. He wanted to see more of what she could do.

-

Midway through the fight, it began to rain. It was gentle enough, though the temperature dropped quickly and the rain felt icy-cold against Aerrow's skin. He paid no mind to it - it was easy to ignore the droplets, except for maybe when they got in his eyes. He parried Mav's sudden lurch just as easily as he did breath, bending backwards to avoid a slash from her other dagger. It missed, but Mav took the opportunity to kick him in the shin.

He winced, clearly feeling it. When he straightened, however, he found that Mav hadn't taken the moment to kick, bite, scratch, or do anything more than leap back out of his range. Light cuts on her arm (was it from her own blade?) dribbled tiny drops of red onto her clothing. The tiny splotches were just barely visible against the dim grey shade of the outfit (the rain tinted it from silvery-white to near-black with ease), but they spread further because of the rain.

Above, a crackle of lightning, followed by thunder, surprised them both by frying a tree on the other side of the terra. Aerrow, while stunned, didn't make a move. Piper, Radarr, Finn, and Junko huddled in the shade of the surrounding trees. Stork had long since returned to the Condor, muttering something about his first aid kit and thermal paralysis.

Mav, however, curled into a fetal position on the ground without hesitation. Holding her daggers up near her scalp, she didn't notice when the edges came so close they sheared off inches of her blonde tresses. They turned a muddy brown when they fell to the ground, speckled with blood where Mav had been even more careless with her weapons.

The girl dropped both of her weapons immediately and one of her daggers buried itself up to the hilt in mud while the other wavered at the tips of her fingers before joining its twin. Both were now out of her reach, but Aerrow was immediately worried - not for himself, that maybe it was just a trick, but for her, because no experienced fighter could really be afraid of something as trivial as thunder. The blue light of his swords disappeared when he sheathed them; kneeling in the mud as best as he could, he heard Mav whimper weakly.

"Mav?" he ventured.

He could barely make out her next words, but they made clear why she was suddenly immobilized and fearful.

"I don't _like_ lightning."

And then she fainted, with gusto, drama, and fear - but mostly fear - right into Aerrow's lap.

-

**A/N:** (Because the top-note was so short it made me want to talk more.) I love auto-pilot. It makes for a great excuse as to why Piper isn't clinging to Mav on the Slip-Wing. And as always, Meii's the first/fourth one to review. Thanks also to fatalquestgirl123, Ember-1331, and Ankou20 for their comments. I appreciate the positive feedback.


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